Wheeling Sunday register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1882-1934, 1887-05-01
CHAPTER. V.

raise Bessie's spirits, which were already
sufficiently low.
CHAPTER. V.
DREAMS ARE FOOLIsHNESS.
| When John Mel left Bessie on the We
randa at the approach of Frank Muller he
had taken his gun, and, having whistled
to the pointer dog Pontiac, mounted his
shOoting-pony and started out in quest OF
partridges. On the warm slopes of the
| hills round WakkeTsirOOm n large species
of partridge is very abundant, especially IN
the patches of red grass in which they are
sometimes clothed. II is merry sound
to hear these cartridges calling from all
directions Just after daybreak, and one to
make the heart of every true sportsman re-
ioice exceedingly. On leaving the house
John proceeded up the side Of the hill be-
hind this pony picking itsway carefully
between the stones, and the dog Pontiac
ranging about two or three hundred yards
of. for ia this sort of country it is neces-
Sary to have q dog with wide range.
| Presently John saw him stop under a
mimosa thorn and suddenly stiflen ont as
| if he had been petrifed, and made the best
of his way towards him Pontiac stood
still for a few seconds, and then slowly and
deliberately veered his head round, as
thnab,h it worked on hinge, to see IT his
master were coming. John knew his way.
| Three times would that remarkable old
dou look round thus, and If the gun had
not then arrived he would to Il certainty
run in and flush the birds. This WAS u
rule that he never broke, for his patience
had fixed limit. On this occasion, how
ever, John arrived before it was reached,
and, jumping off his pony, cooked his gun
and marched slowly up, full OF happy eX-
recitation. On drew the dog, his eye cold
and fixed, saliva dropping from his mouth,
and his head and face, on which was frozen
an extraordinary expression of instructive
ierouity, Outstretched to their utmost limit.
lie was right under the mimOSa thorn
now and up to his belly III the warm, red
grass. Where could the birds be? JhUT!
and great leathered shell seemed to have
burst ut his very feet. What q cOvey!
twelve brace if there was n bird, and they
had all been lying beak to beak in space
no bigger than 4 cartwheel. Up went
Johns gun and off too, n little sooner than
it should have done.
missed him clean! Now then for the
left barrel" Same result. There, we will
,raw veil over the profanity that ensued.
A minute later and it WAS all over, and
John and Pontiac were regarding each
other with contempt and disgust.
at was all you, yOu brute, " said John
to Pontiac. Il thought you were going to
RIM i'm on1 Won hurried me -
"Ughm said POutaC to John, or, at least,
he looked 1T. ugh! you disgusting bad
shot What is the good OF pointing for
you? It's enough to make dog sick.
The coyey-Or rather the collection OF
old birds, for this kind of partridge some
times packs" just before the breeding
seaSon--had scattered all about the place,
and it was not lOug before Pontiac found
some of them: and this time John got one
bird-.and n beautiful great Partridge N
was too, with yellow legs -ac"u missed an
other. Again Pontiac pNi:rited, and a brac,
rose, Rangl down. goes one; bang! Will
the othser barrel. Caught HIM, by JOve
| iIust AZ he topped the stone. Hnllo
Pontiac is still on the point. Slip in tive
more cartridges. On; leash this time
bang. bangl and down came brace o
them---twO brace of partridge without NOV
iuga yard.
Life has JOYS for all men, hut it has,
verify believe, no Joy to compare to The
ioy ofthe moderate shot and earnest sports
man when he has Just killed halfa dozer
driven partridges without a miss, or ter
roCketing pheasants with eleven cartridges
or, better still, couple of woOdcOck right
and left. Sweet to the politician are the
cheers to announce the triumph of his
cause and of himself; sweet to the deSpond
ing writer is the unexpected public reco
gnition in the Saturday RSrieiC of talents
with which nobody had previously beer
much impressed; sweet to all men is the
light of women's eyes and the touch OF wO
mems lips. But though he have experienced
all these things, 10 the true sportsman and
the moderate shot, Swecter far is it To SEE
the arched wings of the driven bird, bent
like Cupid's bow, come flashing fast to-
wards him, to feel the touch of the stock
as it fits itself against the shoulder, and
the kindly give of the trigger, and, then,
oh, thrilling sight! tOperceive the wonder,
full and yetawful change from life to death,
the PM OF feathers, and the hurting pass
age of the dull mass horne onward by its
own force to fall twenty yards from where
the shot struck it. Next session the
politician will he hOoted down, next year
perhaps, the Saturday Reriec will cut the
happy writer TO ribbons and decorate its
columns with his fragments, next weei
YOU will have wearied of those sweet smiles
or, more likely still, they will be bestowed
elsewhere. Vanity of yanities, my son
each and all of them! But if you are ,
true sportsman (yeS, even though You b
but moderate shot, it will alwa1s be
glorious thing to 90 out shooting, ami wheI
you chance to shoot well earth holds NJ
such joy as that which shall glow An youI
honest breast tor all spOrtsmen ard hOneSt)
and it remains to he proved if Heaven doe
either. lisa grand sport, though the pity
Of it is that it should be such actuel one
Such was the pean that John sing in his
heart as be contemplated those fine par
tridges before lovingly transferring them
to his bag. But his luck to-day was not
destined 10 stop at PARTRIDGE for hardly
had he ridden over the edge Of the bowl
( e',StrewSs Oss,aCs % = Oh sla1 fiat table
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